Closing In On Clues
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Julie Anne Lindsey
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Chapter One
Nicole Homes checked the clock for the tenth time in half as many minutes, a routine sheād perfected hours before, when her younger sister, Cari, went from being inconsiderably late to unfathomably so. Thereād been a time in Cariās teen years when staying out all night without calling meant sheād fallen back into bad habits and unhealthy patterns, but sheād been clean for thirty-five months. And since the birth of her daughter, Blakely, in the spring, Cari tended to come home early more often than not.
So where was she now?
āOf course Iāve tried calling,ā Nicole explained to a painfully calm officer on the other end of the line. āI get voice mail every time.ā
She paced the living room carpet with impatient steps and a biting urge to scream. If it hadnāt been for her sweet niece, playing happily in the nearby playpen, she might have.
āSomethingās happened to my sister,ā she repeated. āI know it.ā
And whatever it is, itās bad, she thought, and her breaths grew increasingly shallow.
āI understand your concern, maāam,ā the officer replied. āI do. But without any evidence of foul play, your sister is just considered late at this point. You said she worked last night.ā
āOnly until eleven.ā
āAll right. Maybe she got caught up. Maybe the party where she worked went on longer than expected, or she went out with friends afterward and fell asleep.ā
āOkay,ā Nicole conceded. āThen where is she now? Itās nearly lunchtime.ā
The officer inhaled audibly, then released the breath on a slow exhale. āItās barely ten a.m. She could still be sleeping if she had a late night. Maybe she had car trouble. Maybe her phone is dead, because she didnāt take a charger to work with her. Any number of very common, non-perilous things couldāve happened, and nine times out of ten, thatās all it is. Hang tight until this evening, and if sheās still not home after twenty-four hours...ā
The manās words faded as Nicole circled their small living room, peeking through the window toward Cariās designated parking spot on each pass. Empty. As it had been since last night. Nicole had received all the same advice and sentiments when sheād made her first call to the police department at two in the morning. The officer on duty then had encouraged her to get some sleep, claiming circumstances often looked different by light of day.
Currently, they did not.
Blakely squirmed in her playpen, probably sensing the tension rolling off her aunt in waves.
Nicoleās eyes misted with fatigue and frustration as she paused to stroke her nieceās round cheek.
Sheād been eight years old when Cari was born. And remembered clearly how sheād looked the first time she set eyes on her, wrapped in a pink blanket, dark curls springing out in all directions. Wide brown eyes fixed on hers.
Cari had looked then exactly as her daughter did now.
āThank you,ā Nicole said abruptly, interrupting the officer. āIāll call back in a few hours.ā The fierce protectiveness sheād felt every day as a big sister blazed to life once more. The police werenāt ready to look for Cari, but Nicole was.
She set her phone aside and lifted her sweet niece into her arms. āItās okay,ā she cooed, stopping the infantās small fussy sounds. She cradled Blakelyās warm little body against hers, and their dark brown locks mingled against her shoulder. Homes women looked a lot alike, but the similarities always stopped there. Cari was carefree and energetic, afraid of nothing and happy in a nearly contagious way. Nicole was pragmatic and steadfast, a troubleshooter by nature, and on occasion slightly harsher than necessary, which she didnāt mind if it got the job done. Her mother had insisted their differences were what made them a formidable team.
It was time to find her teammate.
āHow about a drive?ā she asked Blakely. āFresh air. Sunshine. Sound good?ā
If she happened to discover her sisterās car abandoned, or some other evidence to suggest Cari wasnāt just being irresponsible, then the police would have to listen.
She buckled Blakely securely into her rear-facing car seat and thanked her stars sheād made the purchase. āYour mama wanted to save money by sharing a car seat,ā she told her, before pressing a kiss to the babyās forehead. āIf Iād listened to her, she mightāve taken the seat with her last night. Then weād be stuck at home instead of on our way to save her.ā
What she wouldnāt give to have that argument with Cari again right now. Sheād cheerfully fight about anything if it meant her sister was safe.
She climbed behind the wheel of her small gray SUV, and they were on their way.
Cari set her phone to Do Not Disturb while she worked, but always left the address where she could be found in case of an emergency. If her baby needed her, Nicole was to come straight to the source, etiquette be darned.
Not surprisingly, the GPS led them away from the valley, where single-family homes and apartment buildings peppered the landscape near a historic downtown. Warm southern sun heated her skin through open windows, while the balmy breeze did its best to ease her nerves. Coastal North Carolina was a sight to behold in every season, but their little inlet town was downright breathtaking in summertime. July was possibly the prettiest month of all.
They wound their way along the smooth black ribbon of road, past big white dairy barns and emerald fields, then upward, past miles of vibrant wildflowers and cookie-cutter neighborhoods into the mountains. Rugged, jutting rocks lined the road on one side, climbing into the sky, while a great precipice overlooked the sea on the other.
When houses appeared once more, they were massive and sprawling, nothing like the farmhouses and cottages of the working class, found closer to sea level. These properties were owned by folks who probably never got their hands dirty. If they did, there were luxurious in-ground and infinity pools waiting out back to wash away their cares.
Finally, the small voice on her phone announced their arrival, and Nicole slowed near a multilevel Frank Lloyd Wright knockoff on the corner of multiple entwining roads. It was a wonder residents ever learned their way around.
āThis is it,ā she told Blakely, catching her eye in the baby mirror sheād attached to her carās back-seat headrest. Blakely chewed contentedly on one pudgy fist, her face reflected in the shiny silver plastic, then again in Nicoleās rearview. āYour mommy was here last night. Working hard to buy you nice toys so you can chew on your fist instead.ā
Blakely hiccupped a laugh against her knuckles, and Nicole smiled.
None of the cars parked along the street were Cariās.
She circled the area once more with identical results.
Unease pooled and coiled in her core as she passed the house in question for a third time.
Cari had been fine before the fancy party. Sheād come home and showered after her waitressing shift at a restaurant in town. Sheād kissed Blakely good-night a hundred times and promised to be home as soon as possible. Extra shifts and gigs at private parties had become part of her routine since Blakelyās birth. And sheād taken full advantage of the free babysitting opportunities afforded by a sister who had the summer off from teaching second grade.
Nicole never minded. She loved the extra time with her niece, and seeing her sister thriving was a joy all on its own. Life hadnāt always been this way for Cari.
She thought again of the short video Cari sent for Blakely. Nicole had replayed it several times throughout the night, but there were only notes of happiness in her voice and smile. No signs anything was amiss.
Aside from the video, Cari had sent a single picture of a small bridge illuminated in fairy lights. Presumably a landscaping feature in the homeownerās backyard. Something Cari would insist they make for Blakely somewhere, someday.
Nicole exhaled a heavy breath and pulled onto the homeās double-wide driveway.
The garage door opened and a man stilled when he saw her exit the SUV. āCan I help you?ā he asked.
āYes. Hi,ā she said, opening the back door to gather Blakely into her arms. āI hope so.ā She stepped around her car, moving in the manās direction. āMy sister worked at a party here last night. She hasnāt come home, and Iām starting to worry. I thought you might remember her, or could put me in contact with the company you used for the catering. She was a member of the waitstaff.ā
His eyes widened slightly at the announcement Cari hadnāt come home, then narrowed suspiciously when Nicole made her request. āIām sorry. You must be mistaken. I havenāt hired any catering company. Now, if youāll excuse me, I have to get to work.ā He dropped behind the wheel of his high-end sports car and drove away.
The garage door shut emphatically behind him.
She shook off the urge to retreat and marched to the homeās front porch instead.
A phone rang somewhere inside while Nicole pressed the bell.
Long seconds passed before the clicking of heels carried to the door.
She stepped back as the great wooden barrier swept open, revealing a thin blonde in a fitted red dress, a pair of fawn-colored heels on her feet. āCan I help you?ā she asked, fastening a golden hoop to one earlobe. Her skin was clear and tanned, her makeup flawless and her smile warm.
āHello,ā Nicole said gently, putting on the voice and smile she used on parents and new students at the beginning of each school year. āIām looking for my sister. She was part of the waitstaff at a party here last night, and I wondered if you could look at a photo of her and let me know if you remember seeing her?ā
She freed her phone from one pocket and swiped quickly through saved images. āI understand if you didnāt have time to meet every server, but it would mean a lot if you would just look. Or if you can tell me the name of the company you used to hire the servers.ā
She settled on an image of Cari with a wide-open smile and Blakely in her arms. āThis is her. Her name is Cari Homes. Sheās twenty-three andāā
āNo,ā the woman said sharply, smile fading as she scanned the street over Nicoleās shoulders, probably looking for nosy neighbors. āThere wasnāt any party. I canāt help you, and I didnāt see your sister.ā Her gaze swept briefly to Blakely. āIām sorry. I have to go,ā she added more softly, then stepped back and closed the door.
Nicole stared at the brass knocker, fighting the urge to rap it a few times, or maybe try the bell again. Instead, she turned, stunned silent, toward her car.
Blakely squirmed, and Nicole adjusted her niece in her arms. Blakelyās fair baby skin was turning pink beneath the beating southern sun, and sunscreen hadnāt crossed her auntās harried mind.
āPoor sweetie,ā Nicole said, hurrying to secure her inside the car and out of the dangerous UV light.
It was possible Cari had written the address incorrectly, accidentally flipping two digits on the house number or misunderstanding the street name, but that seemed even more unlikely than the possibility nothing was wrong.
Unwilling to give up just yet, Nicole drove aimlessly through the neighborhood in search of Cariās car. She tried to imagine a scenario where Cari would lie about where she was last night but came up empty-handed.
When she wondered why a wealthy couple would lie about having a party, nothing good came to mind. She supposed it was possible the wife didnāt know the husband had a party. Or maybe the call Nicole heard ringing while sheād waited on the doorstep was the husband instructing his wife to lie if she was questioned. Maybe they both knew something went wrong and were covering their backsides by pretending it hadnāt happened.
The potential reasons were increasingly grim.
Nicoleās chest constricted as she imagined gruesome accidents of every variety, and she pulled over to catch her breath. A small park caught her attention. A handful of kids played at its center, one of whom wore a coat that looked a lot like the one Cari had left home in the night before.
Nicole was out of her car in a heartbeat, pulling Blakely from her five-point safety harness and moving across the street at a clip. āExcuse me,ā she called, forcing a smile and waving an arm. āHey! Hello!ā She broke into a jog when the group looked her way.
The children ranged in age from ten or so to a pair of girls in their teens. They all stared as she approached. One of the younger girls wore the cropped lavender coat over a tank top with cutoff shorts and flip-flops.
āIām Ms. Homes,ā she said. āIām a teacher at Marshalās Bluff Elementary School. I think my sister lost her jacket. She was in this area last night, and it looks a lot like that one.ā She smiled at the young lady in question. āHow long have you had that?ā
The coat could belong to the girl, she supposed, but given the current temperatures, and her weather-appropriate outfit, otherwise, she doubted the kid had left home in a coat. Especially one clearly not her correct size.
The child looked at the teen, who raised her eyebrows in turn. āFine,ā the kid said, sloughing off the coat. āI found it under a park bench and put it on. Purple is my favorite color, and no one else was around. I thought it was finders keepers.ā
āWhich bench?ā Nicole asked, fear gripping her chest as she reached for the coat.
The child pointed, and an anvil pressed against Nicoleās lungs.
āTold you it was lost, dummy,ā another child scolded.
One of the teens shoved him in response. āDonāt call names.ā
Nicole turned the jacket around in her hand, careful to keep Blakely secure as she looked. A small nail polish stain near the zipper sent her back to the day Cari had selected the coat and theyād gotten manicures together at the mall. She worked to press words through her tightened throat. This was her sisterās coat. Why was it under a park bench? āThank you.ā
The benches were all empty now, and the group of children moved away.
She hugged Blakely and clutched the jacket against them both. āWhere did you go?ā she whispered into the day.
With a deep intake of air, she moved back toward her car, planting comfort kisses against her nieceās head as they moved. Blakely smelled like love and hope. Nicole needed both, and Cari probably needed them more.
The sharp roar of an engine stopped her short of stepping onto the road. A sleek black sedan barreled past, engine growling. The vehicle turned the next corner with a piercing squeal of tires and disappeared.
Nicole shook away the rush of gooseflesh and foreboding that had appeared with the car, then ran to her SUV and secured Blakely in her car seat.
She pulled carefully away from the curb with a multitude of backward glances, praying her sister would appear. Somewhere on the fringe. Unharmed and oblivious to the lost time. Instead, she told her phone to direct her home.
Something dark flashed across her rearview mirror as she rolled forward, under command of her GPS.
The black car that had screamed past the park earlier was now behind her and quickly drawing near.
Nicole toed the gas pedal with increased purpose, stretching the space between them.
Blakelyās eyes drooped in the reflection of her toy mirror, lulled by the heat of the day and the gentle rock of the SUV in motion.
The black car snarled loudly, reclaiming the little space Nicole had gained. It quickly matched her speed on the narrow curving roads. Tint on the windows, combined with glare from the sun, made the driver invisible, but everything about the moment felt pointed and intentional.
Nicoleās speed edged higher, nearing ten miles over the posted limit, and she wondered if she should pull into someoneās driveway. Maybe make a run for their front door. Would the other driver give chase on foot as well?
Was she being chased?
The time it would take to get Blakely into her arms, and the possibility no one would answer the door at a randomly selected home, tore her rattled heart into pieces. How could she escape this car?
The sudden growl of the vehicleās engine snapped her eyes to the rearview mirror in time to see the sedan lurch closer, slowing only when its front bumper disappeared.
Nicole cussed.
Blakely burst into tears. The engine noise and her auntās outburst had apparently tipped the scales against her prospects for sleep.
āSorry,ā Nicole chanted, her fingers painfully tight around the steering wheel. āShh. Itās okay.ā
The incredibly steep road back to town came into view. Light glinted off the sun-bleached rock face on her right, and danced over the inlet waters on her left, hundreds of feet below.
She braced to hold her ground as a final, teeth-rattling groan shot the black sedan forward and into the oncoming lane.
The driver darted in front of Nicole, causing her to swerve and slam the brakes before it zoomed away.
She eased into the next available space along the roadās shoulder and cried with Blakely as the carās taillights vanished into the distance.
Nicole didnāt have proof her sister was in trouble, or that the black sedan had just delivered a warning, but she knew in her bones both were true.
And there was only one man on earth who would believe her.
